


Ashayam

by Willowe



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, really just unbearable amounts of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willowe/pseuds/Willowe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock knows he has no right to refer to Jim as any sort of endearment, even in the privacy of his own thoughts. If he had only listened to this logic he wouldn't find himself in this position, standing on the bridge having just called his captain "ashayam".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ashayam

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [Ashayam](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8378209) by [karen0](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karen0/pseuds/karen0)



> Inspiration, and one line of dialogue, from this tumblr post: http://willowenigma.tumblr.com/post/70398869845/captainsamcarter-james-t-kink

There is no logic in using endearments when thinking about Jim. He is not in any formal relationship with the man, save that of Captain and First Officer, and endearments are certainly not appropriate in that context. Still he tells himself that it would be illogical for him to not acknowledge the truth of who his t'hy'la is, and since he only uses such terms in the privacy of his own thoughts he does not see any reason to desist in doing so. If he sometimes also whispers the words aloud, into the silence of sickbay as he sits in a lonely vigil by Kirk's bedside, that is of no one's concern but his own. It remains, in all ways, a private matter that he does not feel obligated to share with anyone.

It is possible, he thinks, that Jim could reciprocate these feelings. But he has calculated the odds and they are not encouraging, and without any concrete hints from Jim that he should pursue a more romantic relationship he is hesitant to take that final step. He tells himself that he is content with their friendship and he is, if only because the alternative of losing Jim completely is so terrifying that he will do anything to prevent that from happening. Even keeping his t’hy’la at a permanent, albeit necessary, professional distance.

But knowledge of what they are to each other, what they could be or should be, wears at him. It makes him both eager to please, fills him with a need to care for the one who is dearest to him, and incites his anger because he does not have the right to make any claim on Jim like that. He strengthens his controls, acts as normal as he can, and deflects on those rare occasions when someone does pick up on the fact that something is off. Nyota is suspicious and Doctor McCoy is on the verge of ordering him to sickbay for a complete physical. Jim is worried, concerned, but unlike the other two he seems to trust Spock when the Vulcan assures him that he is dealing with the matter appropriately.

Jim's faith in him stirs something deep inside the Vulcan, makes it both harder to control his emotions while simultaneously giving him the strength to get through the day with his mask firmly in place. And most of the time, during those calm days traveling between systems and for most of the away missions that end peacefully, he is able to keep this secret hidden away.

But sometimes Jim is so infuriatingly, wonderfully, illogically human that Spock seems to have no control of his mental shields at all.

"The natives are hiding something, and I want to know what it is before I sign anything!"

Spock grits his teeth and reminds himself that it would not be wise to nerve pinch his t'hy'la. He has tried to tell Jim on multiple occasions that they can gather more information after they have signed the treaty, but his Captain is not listening to him. “Ashayam, refusing to sign the peace treaty will only beleaguer the natives unnecessarily. Please consider another course of action.”

Spock knows, even before he hears Nyota's surprised gasp, that he has made a grave mistake. He steels his face into one of neutrality and hopes Jim won't pick up on that little slip, but of course such wishes are utterly illogical especially when it comes to his t'hy'la.

"What was that word? What did you call me?" Jim demands.

"It is nothing of importance," Spock says evenly, giving Nyota a look that says, in no uncertain terms, that she is not to tell Jim the definition herself. "The peace treaty-"

"To hell with the peace treaty! I want to know what you just called me!" Jim turns to Nyota. "You speak Vulcan, and with a reaction like that you can't tell me you don't know what he said."

"I do not believe it would be my place to tell you, sir," she says, giving Spock a look that he can't entirely interpret before turning and staring intently at the displays at her station.

"Un-fucking-believable," Jim mutters, and slouches down in his seat with a sigh. "Uhura, tell the natives we will sign the treaty at first light tomorrow. I want you and Spock combing through that document in the meantime, make sure we aren't about to sign something that could bite us in the ass. Chekov, Sulu, maintain current position and continue scans."

The orders are fairly standard but Spock can't help but notice that they're lacking some of Jim's usual energy. The Captain is still slouched in his seat and looks decidedly upset, and a glare from Nyota tells him that it isn't simply because he does not wish to sign the treaty. So Spock finds himself reaching out towards Jim's mind, a difficult endeavor as no true bond exists but not an impossibility given how in-tune their minds are. What he finds grieves him deeply.

Pain, a deep hurt like a betrayal that cuts him to the core, the ache of knowing he read someone so utterly wrong. Stupid, idiotic, never should have opened up, self-loathing and shame for trying so hard when it was obviously all for nothing, stupid, stupid, stupid-

Spock pulls his mind away, deep grief and shame overwhelming him for a moment as he realizes that by denying Jim answers the human has instead come up with explanations on his own. To Jim, the only possible answer is that of hate, of their friendship being rejected in anger and Spock cursing him, insulting him. That Spock should be the cause of such pain in his t'hy'la... It is unthinkable. Unacceptable.

He's moving before he is conscious of his decision to do so, standing at rest next to the Captain's chair. It's a familiar stance for him, but this time Jim does not look up until Spock says, "Captain, may I have a word with you in private?"

"Not right now, Mr. Spock. I need you reviewing that treaty," Jim says. His voice is casual but the smile he gives is more of a grimace, forced and tense. It makes Spock's heart ache to see it, to know that he is the cause of such pain.

"Very well, sir," he says reluctantly and retreats back to his station before he can do something else he may regret, like giving in to his need to reach out to his t'hy'la, to draw away the pain he's caused and offer comfort through his touch alone.

At her station Nyota makes a small noise of disbelief. She stands and walks over to where Spock is working, leaning down to whisper furiously, "Are you really going to just leave it at that?"

"I do not wish to discuss this on the bridge, and as the Captain has made it clear we are to focus on our work I fail to see any alternative course of action," Spock says just as quietly.

Nyota huffs. "And by the time we're done here he'll find some new reason to avoid you and you'll miss your only chance to explain things!" she hisses. Seeing that her words are having no effect on Spock she changes tactics. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Lieutenant, do you have something relevant to our situation to share?" Jim asks, interrupting the whispered conversation.

Nyota straightens and turns to face Jim. "No sir."

"Then back to your post."                          

"Sir-"

"That was not a suggestion, Lieutenant," Jim says, his voice hard.

Spock can feel Nyota glance at him, but he does not meet her gaze. She makes another disgusted, frustrated sound and says, "I can't believe you two! It wasn't even anything bad! _Sir!_ ”

The bridge is silent, the only sound the click of Nyota's heels as she storms back to her station and sits down. Spock can feel Jim staring at him but he doesn't turn around, doesn't trust his shields to hold if he looks at his t'hy'la now. As it is he can feel his face flushing, blood rushing to tint his skin green before he manages to regain control of his cardiovascular system.

"Spock."

How can he resist that voice, when he can barely suppress a shiver at the hot breath that ghosts over the sensitive points of his ears? He turns to face Jim, keeping his face as neutral as he can under the circumstances.

"Spock, did you call me... If it wasn't anything bad, was it an... an endearment?" The hopeful look on Jim's face takes away what little control Spock had managed to regain and his face flushes bright green once more. Jim smiles widely, and Spock lets himself be overwhelmed by the human's happiness. "It was! What, was it the Vulcan way of calling me your baby?"

Jim's teasing isn't malicious, and indeed Spock finds himself enjoying the human's joy, but Jim isn't being subtle and their conversation is attracting the attention of the crew. "Captain... Jim, I ask again. May we please have this conversation in private?"

“Alright, alright. Sulu, you have the con,” Jim says. “Where to now, Spock? My ready room, or my quarters?”

Spock can see some of the crew smirking and, not for the first time, he wonders why he had to fall in love with James T. Kirk of all humans. “Your ready room will be sufficient, Captain,” he says formally, knowing that any other answer will only incite lewd rumors amongst the crew.

That doesn’t stop one of the ensigns on duty from muttering, “Yeah, I bet it’ll be sufficient,” as Spock walks past, probably not expecting that the Vulcan would hear him.

“Ensign, you are dismissed from the bridge,” Spock says coolly. “Call up a replacement and report to Science Lab Three immediately.”

“Yes sir,” the ensign says, a bit sullenly, though he doesn’t protest and none of his compatriots make any other remarks as Spock following Jim into his ready room.

“Was that really necessary, sending him to the labs?” Jim asks. “He didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I do not wish our relationship to become the subject of crew gossip,” Spock tells him.

“And what relationship might that be, hm?” Jim asks with a small, teasing smile. “Friendship, or… more, perhaps?”

“By now you are no doubt aware of the answer to that question,” Spock says. Jim is his t’hy’la, he reminds himself, and he should be able to discuss matters such as this with him. But it is difficult, after so many months suppressing these emotions, to now let them out into the open.

“Well maybe I want to hear it from you,” Jim says, stepping closer until he’s just this side of too close to Spock. “Maybe I want you to spell it out for me, to really explain what that little word you let slip means. Maybe I want to know how long you’ve wanted me…”

“7.8 months,” Spock bites out, managing to speak the words through the cloud of overwhelming emotion brought on by Jim’s close proximity. “I have desired you for 7.8 months.”

That, at least, gets Jim to stop advancing. “What? But you broke up with Uhura…”

“7.8 months ago,” Spock confirms. “It was a large factor in ending our relationship, although not the only factor. She… does not know, about my feelings towards you. I did not think it wise to tell anyone.”

“Why not?” Jim asks. He seems curious, Spock thinks, not angry. That is encouraging.

“I did not know if you returned my feelings,” Spock admits. “I did not know how to ask you without risking our existing friendship.”

“You thought I’d walk away from our friendship if you told me about this?” Jim asks. Spock can feel his hurt, like a bitter metallic taint to the air around them.

“Captain… Jim, what I feel for you…” Spock takes a deep breath, tries to organize his thoughts. “The depth of emotion I felt was hard for me to process. There is no accurate translation for it into Standard. I feared making any attempt and overwhelming you with the fierceness of the connection I feel between us, especially when I had no guarantee you reciprocated these feelings to any degree.”

“Well I definitely reciprocate,” Jim says. “But you’re still looking freaked out, so I think this is something we need to discuss.” He pulls out one of the chairs at the small table and motions for Spock to sit down. Only once the Vulcan is seated does he sit down himself. “So. I’m listening, and I promise I won’t run away.”

Spock clasps his hands on his lap, studies them instead of looking at Jim. For all his promises that he won’t overreact Spock is familiar with humans, knows that they can’t always predict how they will handle certain situations. Jim may very well find himself overwhelmed and needing to retreat anyway. “What I feel for you is the very beginning of a t’hy’la bond,” he says quietly.

“What does that mean?”

“As I said, it has no accurate translation,” Spock says. “It has been used to mean friend, brother, or lover. Perhaps most accurately it means all three. Two people who are closer than any blood-relatives or childhood friends could ever hope to be, two people who share more than just their bodies. Two people becoming one, becoming inextricably linked even past death. A bond stronger than any other, a relationship more precious than any other, a love deeper than any words can tell. That is what I feel for you, Jim. You are my t’hy’la, one who is more important to me than any other in this universe.”

There is silence for a long moment and Spock looks up, almost afraid of what he’ll see on the human’s face. But Jim is staring at him, wide eyes shining with something that Spock does not know how to name. Awe, perhaps, and most definitely love, and a myriad of other emotions that he cannot put a name to, and the knot of tension in Spock’s chest loosens ever-so-slightly.

“Spock, I… I don’t know what to say after that. But I love you. God, do I love you. I don’t know if that’s enough, but it’s all I can offer.” Jim reaches down and squeezes Spock’s hands. The pleasure the Vulcan feels at the sensation is immediately drowned out by the love and adoration radiating out from that contact. It’s overwhelming, and it’s everything Spock ever wanted.

“This is more than enough, Jim,” Spock says, squeezing Jim’s hands back. “This is… everything.”

Jim stands and pulls Spock up with him, tugging the Vulcan forward until they’re pressed close, the human’s cooler skin making Spock shiver with how unexpectedly right it feels. Jim leans in slowly, no doubt thinking that he’s giving Spock enough time to pull away if he wants, but Spock has no intention of doing any such thing. He leans in himself, reaching up with his free hand to cup Jim’s face as he kisses him gently, tenderly. It’s sweet, just the barest hint of tongue and teeth promising more than the soft press of lips.

Spock can feel his controls unravelling as Jim’s presence rushes in to fill the empty spaces inside him that he has ignored for so long. He lets the humans emotions overwhelm him, cherishes the flashes of thoughts he picks up through their touch, moans as his fingers ghost over psi points and he catches glimpses of the radiant brightness that is Jim Kirk’s true consciousness.

It’s that moan that gets Jim pulling away. The human is breathing heavily and he rests his forehead against Spock’s, his eyes closed, and Spock knows he is not the only one struggling for control right now. “God, the things I want to do to you,” Jim breathes. “But we can’t, not right now at least. Not with this mission…”

“Of course.” Spock takes a step back, though he’s still firmly holding on to Jim’s hand and can’t quite bring himself to break that last connection. “Of course, the mission must come first.”

“The mission, and this ship and her crew, will always have to come first.” Jim sighs. “We have a lot more to discuss. How this is going to impact our command ability, whether to tell Command and the crew…”

With his shields in such tatters Spock can’t hold back the spike of fear that shoots through him. Of course. Jim’s duties to the ship far outweigh whatever feelings he may hold. It was illogical for him to think that this was a realistic possibility-

“Oh no, don’t you dare go shutting down on me now,” Jim says, pulling Spock back in close. “I want this. _I want this_ , do you hear me? God, I want it more than anything, and damn the costs. I want to know what that word you said on the bridge means, and I want to know what you say when you’re first waking up in the morning, and-” He raises their joined hands and kisses Spock’s, the action sweet and gentle but the Vulcan shudders at the brush of Jim’s lips over sensitive nerve endings, causing the human to smirk. “-I want to know what I can make you scream when I finally get you in bed.”

“Jim you were correct, this is not an appropriate time to start anything,” Spock says, his voice rough with a desire that he can’t completely hold back.

“God, keep talking in that voice and I won’t be able to help myself,” Jim says. He exhales slowly, squeezes Spock’s hand once more, and finally releases it. “Alright. Okay. We need to get back to the bridge. After shift though, my quarters? Dinner and a talk and maybe…?”

Jim’s voice trails off, the hope undisguisable. “That would be… agreeable,” Spock says, but he lets a small smile come through and Jim laughs with delight at the sight.

“God, I love you. And I love that I can say that now,” Jim says, and for all of their words about needing to stop he leans back in and presses a quick kiss to the side of Spock’s mouth. “Just tell me one thing."

“Anything, ashayam.”

“That,” Jim says. “That’s what you called me on the bridge. What does it mean?”

“Beloved,” Spock tells him. “It means beloved.”

Jim’s smile is brilliant and Spock feels almost physically warmed by it, as illogical as that may be. “And is that how you think of me?” he asks, slightly teasingly. “As your beloved?”

“As that, and more,” Spock tells him.

“More? Like what?” Jim asks, as curious as ever.

“Perhaps, once this shift is over, you’ll find out,” Spock says as serenely as if he was delivering any normal report. Jim makes a little choked-off noise, as if he can’t believe the Vulcan even hinted at that, and Spock uses Jim’s momentary distraction to make his own escape before things progress further than they should.

Everyone on the bridge turns as soon as Spock walks out, though one look from him gets them all focusing back on their stations once more. It’s hard, however, to disguise how well things went when Jim walks out with a spring in his step and a wide, almost manic, grin on his face.

This time, when Nyota walks over to talk to Spock, Jim does not stop her. “I take it things went well?” she asks softly, a smile of her own on her face.

“Indeed,” Spock says. “Although I still do not believe this is an appropriate conversation to have on the bridge.”

“Then after shift, maybe? You can catch me up on all these delightful feelings you’ve been hiding from everyone.”

“I cannot,” Spock says. “I have... other plans for this evening.”

Nyota laughs, the sound drawing the attention of everyone around them. But Spock only notices Jim who glances back over his shoulder with another smile of his own, one just for Spock. And if the Vulcan doesn’t even try to stop himself from thinking, _my t’hy’la_ , with a burst of possessive love so strong it almost frightens him, he doesn’t think Jim would mind at all.


End file.
